ME Kink Meme Archives: Kaliya Shepard & Garrus
by KSCrusaders
Summary: A collection of the old masskink meme fills featuring my Shepard, Kaliya, and Garrus Vakarian. Some editorial changes from the kmeme versions, spoilers for all three Mass Effect games.
1. Bolero

Commander Kaliya Shepard was freezing.

That was her own fault. Teaching her how to snipe had been Garrus's idea, but doing so on a windy skyscraper roof on Ilium had been hers. She forced herself to refocus and gazed down the rifle scope at the target Garrus had set up on another rooftop.

She held her breath and relaxed, just as Garrus had taught her. Her combat mindset kicked in-with it came focus, but also an enhanced awareness of the dark energy potential crackling along her nervous system. She tried to shut it out.

A split second later, she saw the little white target fall through the scope sight, one bullet hole neatly placed through its center. She lowered the rifle and looked up at Garrus, who nodded, pleased.

"Nice, Shepard," he said, with the turian equivalent of a smile in his eyes. "You're much steadier now."

She was about to reply when another stiff breeze caught them, and she started shivering.

"I suppose I could have picked a better night to do this," she called over her shoulder to Garrus.

Garrus paused before answering. "It was your call. I could hardly object to a more realistic training setting." She might have imagined it, but there was just a hint of an "I-told-you-so" in his voice before he fell silent.

She peeked back down the scope. Her aim was a little less steady this time. She might have blamed it on the cold, but the truth was that she just couldn't keep the sights from wobbling. And this time, the shot clipped the corner of the target, sending it spinning in crazy circles.

Before she even had time to blink, another shot knocked the target flat. She whirled around to see Garrus, holding one of the standard issue rifles up to his visor with a bit of a mischevious spark in his eyes.

"Show off," said Shepard as she lowered the rifle.

"You did set out to recruit the best in the galaxy, Shepard," he said, chuckling.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Now you're getting cocky. Space William Tell and all."

Garrus's confused expression got a chuckle from her. "William Tell is a human folk hero. The stories about him say that he could shoot an apple off a man's head at two hundred paces with nothing but a bow-primitive weapons we used before guns."

"Ah," said Garrus, still slightly confused. Why would someone wish to shoot food off another's head? Why would the apple be there in the first place? "I imagine it would be quite a dangerous feat," he said, biting back his questions.

"You make harder shots in combat," replied Shepard. "I've seen you do it."

He looked down at her, startled, and to his surprise felt anger welling up. She was so calm about it. As though she took it for granted that he wouldn't make some terrible mistake by accident. She didn't know the brief battle with fear that came before every shot into close combat.

"I do-and mostly around you, as a matter of fact," he said hotly. "Shepard, if I ever hurt a hair on your head, I-"

He stopped suddenly, acutely aware that he was ranting at her for no good reason. He dropped his gaze and took a few deep breaths as a very awkward silence fell.

"I'm sorry, Commander. That was...very out of line."

She blinked at him, surprised. It wasn't like Garrus to suddenly snap like that, out of the blue. He avoided her eyes, but something was clearly bothering him. He'd been strained, on edge, since they'd arrived here on Ilium.

"Garrus? Look at me."

It was an order, but gently given. Reluctantly, he met that steady, brilliant blue gaze that always made him feel like he was being scanned. Her face was calm, composed, nearly unreadable-like it always was.

"I am not your superior officer any more," she said quietly. "Not technically. And although I am the one in charge of this mission, I readily accept input from equals. Speak your mind."

Garrus didn't immediately respond, which was a mistake. She went on, that X-ray blue gaze pinning him to the spot. "You're on edge, Garrus. I need to know why."

Damn her. Garrus sighed, defeated. She always knew. And that she could know so much about her crew and give so little of herself was one of the most frustrating things about her. He nodded mutely and turned his back to her, pacing back and forth along the roof edge as he talked.

"I'm worried, Shepard," he said, wondering how to phrase his words without them sounding paranoid. "Cerberus agents, savage krogan, and now an assassin. I'm not sure about their willingness to go through with the mission. About their loyalty to you."

She smiled, though it didn't touch her eyes. "I know," she said. "But Garrus, it really does come down to whether you trust my leadership." Her smile turned a little bitter as she added, "I can, and will, be quite the actress if I need to."

It was in moments like these, where he got a bit of rare candor from Shepard, that Garrus liked her best. She was such a chameleon. She wore a dizzying array of masks, from diplomat to Spectre to cold-blooded murderer. But there were precious seconds where all that fell away, and she was just the woman he'd come to admire.

"I trust you. You know that. But if it's all the same to you, I'll be keeping an eye on them."

"You and Joker. And Dr. Chakwas," she replied with a chuckle. "You'd think I was some sort of endangered animal, not a Spectre. But I appreciate it, Garrus."

"I'm serious, Shepard. Where do you think I'd be without you?"

He'd just blurted out the words without thinking. She looked genuinely surprised, but gratified nonetheless. She looked down at her feet, then smiled and handed him back his sniper rifle, just avoiding his eyes.

"Here," she said quietly. "It's been a long evening, and we should get back to the Normandy."

Garrus breathed a sigh of relief, glad she'd decided not to press him. He took the rifle back, and his hands brushed hers-she was as cold as ice.

"You're freezing," he said, concerned. Before she could protest, he had taken her hands in his, rubbing them to warm her up.

She just stared at their clasped hands, momentarily unable to speak. She quickly shook herself of her surprise and nodded, letting herself enjoy the warmth of his touch for just a few seconds longer before gently disengaging herself. "Thank you," she said, her composure mostly back in place.

But for just a second, the Commander Shepard facade had slipped, and Garrus had seen something else to her. He looked at her, uncertain, but didn't say anything. The myriad reasons why pursuing his feelings for her was a bad idea swirled around in his head again, the same old arguments he'd had with himself two years ago. He followed her back to the ship in silence, lost in his own thoughts.

"Same time tomorrow, Commander?" he asked as they entered the Normandy's airlock.

She nodded absently. "Of course."

* * *

The next evening found Garrus on the same rooftop, carefully setting up targets. He heard a set of footsteps behind him and turned around, expecting Shepard.

Instead, his eyes met Thane's dark, unfathomable gaze. "What are you doing here?" he asked reflexively.

Thane continued to fix him with the same steady stare, disconcertingly similar to Shepard's in its calm. "I can only presume that Commander Shepard has requested aid from both of us." He unclipped his own rifle from his back and adjusted the sight.

It took a few seconds for the meaning of those words to register. Garrus opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it when he imagined Shepard's glare. Normandy wasn't going to be in dry-dock for much longer, he reminded himself. She needed all the practice she could get.

It still didn't keep jealousy from mixing with grudging admiration as he and Thane warmed up, each keeping a close eye on the other. Thane was damn good, as good as he was. Maybe even a little steadier. But he was slower moving from target to target, clearly trained for following one target instead of dealing with hordes of enemies.

"Evening," came Shepard's voice behind them. She was dressed more warmly tonight, a dark blue coat thrown over her uniform, targeting visor glowing softly in the evening light.

She gestured both of them over. There was a kind of hard determination in her eyes, something Garrus remembered from team-building exercises on the first Normandy. His mandibles twitched a little in frustration. He knew why she was doing this, but it didn't mean he had to like it.

She probably caught his expression. Depending on how this went, he might get a dressing-down for it later. "You're the two best snipers on my crew," she said bluntly. "You're going to teach me, and you're going to learn each others' styles by doing so."

She stepped up to the edge of the roof and held her own rifle up, but before she could pull the trigger, Garrus was at her side. "Here," he said, raising his omnitool. "Your visor's Kuwashii model, right?" He hit a few buttons, and the readout flickered from blue to orange and back again. "Custom night-vision setting. Should be a little better in dim to low light."

The knowing smile she gave him was all-too-familiar. She knew having Thane there would spark his competitive edge. Knew the desire for one-upping the assassin would drive him harder, as it had with Ashley or Wrex or Tali.

She didn't know it also made his insides writhe, but he was determined to keep that to himself.

"Crouching will improve your accuracy," said Thane, watching her line up the first shot.

Garrus split his attention between the assassin and his commander as she moved from target to target. He had to admit, she was a lot more like Thane than she was like him in a fight. Cool, precise, thoughtful, calculating. He'd have to throw her for a loop if she was going to learn anything.

"You have to move, Shepard," he said. As he did so, he hit a few keys on his omnitool. Instantly, the little plastic targets began to move around, no longer easy stationary kills.

To her credit, she didn't break concentration, though he did see her hands tense around the gun. That was never good.

"Relax, Shepard," said Thane in his deep, calm voice. "Your soul has the focus and the will. Your body needs to translate them into motion."

It was so much spiritual bullshit to Garrus, but Shepard seemed to get it. She relinquished her deathgrip, and began picking off the targets again, more slowly now that they were moving every few seconds.

Still not good enough. "Gotta be faster than that, Shepard," Garrus said. "What if another wave turns up?"

Thane turned toward him now. "A sniper rifle is a weapon of precision, not mass destruction."

Garrus shrugged. "To you, maybe."

Shepard abruptly got to her feet and holstered the gun. "Is there a problem here?"

The whole thing was a goddamned setup; Garrus knew that from long experience with Shepard. She knew what the problem was. That wasn't what she was asking. Implicit in her calm and casual tone was the challenge-what are you going to do about it?

Of course, Thane wasn't to know that. He'd been on the team for barely a week. The assassin promptly shook his head no.

"I am trained for assassination, Officer Vakarian for police work," he said. "Merely a difference of opinion. Either approach would be beneficial to your skills, Shepard."

Police work. Killing Saren was now "police work." Garrus wondered how much Shepard told the newer team members about the trouble they'd gotten up to two years ago.

She nodded, satisfied with Thane's answer and Garrus's silence. "Fine. Critique for me, then, Thane?"

"Adjusting your grip will reduce strain on your arms, improve weapon stability. May I?" He held out his hands, and she allowed him to gently shift her arms and hands into position.

She gave herself a moment to adjust to the new position, then took aim and shot. Steadier, but still too slow for Garrus's liking.

"Garrus? Thoughts?" she asked, still peering through the scope.

An idea suddenly came to him-she'd either browbeat him for it or think it was brilliant. That made the decision to go for it obvious.

Garrus approached her slowly, then without warning, swung at her with the butt end of his own rifle. She yelped and leapt back dangerously close to the edge, blue biotics flaring up along her skin.

"What in Arashu's name are you doing?" asked Thane, his eyes widening.

Garrus ignored him. "I wouldn't have hit you, Shepard," he said. She didn't drop from her battle stance, eyes narrowing dangerously. "But yeah, I've got some thoughts."

"You're better than you think you are," he said. "Static targets? Easy. Moving targets? Still too easy in my opinion, even if you do bring them down a little slowly. You should be practicing against us, not these white plastic cutouts."

Realization dawned on Thane's face. "You are recommending a sniper's duel," he said. He sounded-pleased? Impressed? "An...odd way to train someone less experienced than us."

And just like a switch had flipped, the biotics surrounding Shepard's body disappeared and she relaxed. Garrus caught a glint of what might have been a smile on her face. "Fine," she said, and Garrus knew he had the upper hand for now. "Ground rules?"

"I presume concussive rounds only," said Thane. "And no biotic abilities."

"Concussive rounds," agreed Garrus. "But feel free to use your biotics for self-defense and mobility. I suggested this so you could snipe in combat, Shepard, not go shooting at a gallery. And in combat, you use biotics."

She looked surprised, but she nodded her agreement, as did Thane. Ten minutes later found them on three separate rooftops with Shepard keyed into the comm. Garrus waited until she'd counted them down, excitement pumping through his veins. This was going to be fun.

* * *

"Never saw me coming!"

Shepard winced as a bullet of Garrus's hit her squarely in the shoulder. The rounds did little more than knock her back thanks to Cerberus's upgrades, but she'd still have bruises like hell in the morning.

She was also getting tired of hearing that taunt in her earpiece. But in spite of the pains and the deepening cold of the evening, she couldn't help but be pleased with how things had gone.

The comm in her ear beeped. "I would've killed you twice over now, Shepard," she heard Garrus say in a much lower, calmer voice. "Keep mobile. Don't think so much-trust your instincts."

She resisted the urge to snort into the comm. Her instincts were to cripple, maim, and kill, forged in the fires of Earth and Akuze. She had to reign them in during combat sims to keep from hurting anyone.

There wasn't a lot of cover on her rooftop-the lip of the roof, a small long-abandoned watch post, and the entrance room. She dropped flat as a shot from Thane went whizzing over her head, then rolled a few meters toward the edge before returning fire.

She was rewarded with a surprised grunt over the comm. Thane hadn't expected her to be there. But now, he was tipped off, changing the game. She lay perfectly still on her stomach, wondering how she was going to bluff him again.

BANG. She swore and rolled again as three shots in quick succession followed her to the ledge. Garrus had climbed on top of one of the protrusions on his rooftop-a dangerous position, but now neither she nor Thane had cover from him.

Shepard instinctively threw a biotic shield around herself. "You crafty turian bastard."

Garrus chuckled. "Getting complacent, Shepard. Just because you're farther away doesn't mean-"

He dove sideways off the little metal watchtower when he saw the flash of Thane's muzzle. Damned drell. Every time he thought he'd cornered Shepard, Thane would throw him for another loop. In fact, the assassin seemed to be gunning mostly for him; he hadn't hit her yet. And Garrus knew he was more than good enough to take down a relative rookie like Shepard.

He turned his comm off the public channel and keyed into Thane's signal. "Don't go easy on her," he growled.

"She will be overmatched against two trained snipers," said Thane.

"Yeah," said Garrus. "But you only ever learn when you get your ass kicked."

There was a pause at the other end of the comm. "That explains a great deal about you. And about Shepard," said Thane. It might have come off as an insult, but somehow it didn't sound that way. Garrus was still puzzling it out when another bullet went whizzing by his left side.

"Distracted?" said Shepard.

"Just some friendly chatting," said Garrus, keying back into the public channel. He could have sworn he heard Thane laugh before the bullets started flying once more.

The final score after a half hour of madness ended up being five hits for Shepard, ten for Garrus, and nine for Thane. Pleased as he was with himself, Garrus couldn't help feeling a little guilty on the shuttle back to the Normandy.

Shepard had pulled off her coat, inspecting her bare arms, which were already starting to bruise spectacularly, the purple discoloration livid against her pale skin.

"It's fine," said Shepard when she saw both Garrus and Thane's eyes on her. "I'll hop up to medical when we get back. Fifteen minutes and no harm done." She turned her attentions back to piloting.

Thane looked at Garrus. "How often did you hit her?" asked the drell.

"Seven," answered Garrus softly.

"Turians are a very strange race," said Thane. "You bond over violence and aggression, and it only seems to strengthen your souls."

"The humans seem to get it," said Garrus, thinking of Shepard's dangerous upbringing, Ashley Williams' hardened determination, even Joker's sheer bullheadedness. "They have a saying-what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger."

Inexpicably, Thane smiled. "I confess I have never tested my strength against my allies before. Thank you for the opportunity."

Garrus found himself grinning back. So the assassin wasn't so bad after all, and Shepard was right. Again. "Sure. Maybe Shepard will shoot at us again sometime."

He heard her soft laugh coming from the cockpit. "Count on it."

* * *

"Up for another round tomorrow?" said Garrus in the med-bay, ignoring Dr. Chakwas' disapproving tsk.

Shepard smiled a little. "Had fun, did you?"

"EDI's combat sims don't always cut it," he replied. "And I did beat your assassin."

"Not my assassin," she replied absently. Then her smile widened, and she leaned forward on the med bay bed, her legs dangling over the edge. "Getting along ok with Thane now?"

That wiped the satisfied smirk from his face. "You can't make everyone friends with everyone on this ship, Shepard. I never thought I'd say this, but the people we brought down Saren with are a lot saner than your current crew."

"I know," she said. "But I can at least get you all to function together."

"I can see why you get along with him," said Garrus. "You're very alike."

To his surprise, Shepard shook her head. "On the contrary. Unless you count that we both killed our first man before we hit our teens." She inspected her bruises idly as she spoke.

Garrus winced a little at her casual tone. She rarely spoke of her life on Earth, but he knew she'd killed her fair share of people before he even joined the military. Other gang members, corrupt cops, once even a drunk Alliance soldier who got too aggressive with her outside a bar. He was so used to being around her, so used to her remarkable self-control that sometimes he simply forgot how dangerous she was.

They stayed there in silence for a few more minutes until the marks on Shepard's skin faded to a dull yellow. She hopped off the med bay bed, then grabbed a few spare blankets before turning to him.

"Garrus?" she asked as they walked out of the medbay. "Can I ask you for another favor?"

Before he could even reply, she launched into an explanation. "There's something wrong with the heat in the loft," she said, the words spilling out of her. "It's freezing up there, and I don't want to pull Gardner out of bed for something so trivial. Do you mind if I-bunk in your quarters tonight?"

For a moment, he wondered if he was dreaming. He couldn't deny he'd had fantasies about this before.

"Garrus?"

He jerked out of the fantasy and blinked down at her. She looked...nervous. Almost uncomfortable. But he didn't have time to contemplate why before he heard himself blurting out, "Of course, Shepard. If there's anything you need-"

She relaxed, breathing an audible sigh of relief. "Thanks. Your bunk's the biggest after Miranda's, and I figured she could use some space after-" She cut herself off. The last Garrus had seen after they secured Oriana two days ago was Shepard walking a distinctly teary and grateful-looking Miranda back to the shuttle. "Anyway, I'll grab some stuff and be right on down," she said before taking off like a shot.

Garrus resisted the urge to tear his quarters apart. There wasn't a whole lot of room in the little bunk attached to the gunnery station, though at least it was warm. The obvious problem lay in where she was going to sleep when the bed was clearly for one.

He firmly squelched the idea of her sharing it with him. She didn't really show it, but Garrus knew that for a marine, Shepard was pretty keen on maintaining her personal space, even with comrades. He still remembered the first time he'd touched her with bare hands, performing a little field medicine on Feros-she'd nearly jumped out of her skin because he didn't warn her.

Garrus looked around the spartan room. Other than his bunk and blankets, all he had in here were clothes, armor maintenance odds and ends, and custom parts for his rifle. Not much in the way of hospitality. Briefly, he wondered if Thane could have done better.

"You're being stupid," he said to himself. His problem wasn't that Shepard was interested in Thane. If she had been, he could read her well enough by now to notice when she treated someone differently. If anything, his problem was that Kaliya Shepard simply didn't seem to care about such things in relation to anyone.

He heard a knock on the door and sighed. He hadn't even gotten out of his armor. "It's unlocked, Shepard," he said.

She walked in, clad in loose sleeping pants and a tank top with a huge bundle of blankets and pillows tucked under her arm. The warmth of the little room washed over her, and she smiled. "Ah. Much better in here. Thank you, Garrus." She closed the door behind her, and Garrus realized in a panic that this was the first time he'd been alone, really alone with her in several weeks. The flurry of activity on Ilium kept them both so busy.

She looked...really different out of uniform. He'd seen her like this before, but the difference was always striking to him. The wiry human female looking curiously around his room didn't seem capable of killing a man in cold blood at age twelve.

"It'll be a little tight," he said as he started undoing the seals of his armor. "Put your stuff on the bed. I'll just-"

"Don't be stupid, I'm not kicking you out of your own bed," she said briskly.

"I understand it's human custom for the host to give his guest the best," said Garrus.

"Garrus, in case you forgot, this is my ship."

"I just shot you seven times," he said, folding his arms. "Give me some of the blankets, and I'll take the floor."

She really wanted to argue, but sometimes Garrus just got really damn stubborn, and it wasn't worth the trouble. And besides, he was right. She could fight mercenaries all day without breaking a sweat, but going up against two master snipers while she was still learning left her pretty drained. At least she'd had the sense to bring the sleeping bag for padding.

She cleared a section of the floor and began laying down the sleeping bag and blankets, trying to keep her eyes off Garrus as he stripped off the bulky armor piece by piece. He seemed comfortable enough changing in front of her. There was a predatory grace and speed that his armor usually concealed in his movements, his very body structure. The soft black underarmor clung to him like a second skin, and she could literally feel him radiating warmth. Or was that just her imagination?

She realized she'd been staring, just a little, and turned away quickly. Thankfully, he had his back to her. She didn't turn back around until she heard the creak of the bunk behind her.

Garrus was tossing and turning slowly under the blankets, and she couldn't help but laugh. "What the devil are you doing?"

"Warming up the sheets for you."

He watched as Shepard's cheeks turned pink, then red, before she burst into laughter.

"I just said something awful in human slang, didn't I?" he asked.

Her continued chuckles were the only answer he needed. He sighed, resigning himself to continued foot-in-mouth syndrome when talking to her. At least he thought that was the human phrase. He sat up and pushed the sheets down to his waist and was about to get out of bed when she shook her head.

"Scoot over," she said.

He gaped at her openly, hardly believing his ears. She turned a little pink again, then continued in her 'commander' voice, "You've decided to come over all noble, and I'm not about to kick you out of your own bunk. If those standard-issue beds will fit two hulked-out Alliance marines, they'll fit us."

"What?" he said blankly, still not sure he wasn't hallucinating or something.

"Don't ask," she said with a sigh.

She still felt rather cold as she slipped into the bed next to him. Her skin was covered with what humans called "goosebumps." Garrus gingerly tucked the blanket around them both, trying to give her as much space as possible in the limited real estate of the bunk. His mind was racing, heart pounding so loud he wondered if she could hear it.

She turned over to face the wall and closed her eyes, breath caught in her throat. She hadn't been imagining the heat. And he was lying there, bare-chested, just inches away. Outside a combat or medical situation, she hadn't let anyone get physically this close to her since Akuze. Only now, with a sudden ache in her chest, did she realize how much she was starved for it.

Hopping into bed with her best friend. She was nuts. But Garrus was so unbelievably warm, almost burning with heat. Finally, she simply said, "Are you comfortable?"

Was he comfortable? Decidedly not.

"Fine," he mumbled finally, his nerve failing him. He scooted just a little closer so they were lightly touching back-to-back. She didn't tense or flinch. If anything, she relaxed, letting out a long slow sigh.

"Good night, Garrus."

He waited until he heard the steady, slow breaths of sleep claim her. Then, he slipped out of the bed and tucked the sheets back around her before getting into the sleeping bag on the floor.

"Good night, Kaliya."


	2. Archaea

The roar of the thresher maw paralyzed her from head to toe. Instinctively, she ducked behind the ruined pillar, her body curling into a ball. She could hear gunfire and yelling, the terrible sound of men screaming. Smell death and acid, feel the wind ripping her skin and the sand blasting against her armor.

Her instincts kicked in. Run. Hide. Survive. She sprinted blindly for another pillar just as a tremendous jet of acid engulfed the ground where she'd been standing. More yelling. More gunfire. She ducked behind some protruding metal, her mind lost halfway between now and a decade ago.

Where were the Alliance reinforcements? She saw faces, bodies, consumed whole by the maws without even the time to scream.

The terrible roar came again, closer, rattling her teeth. Felt her hands go slack, her muscles spasm. Her brain struggled for control, felt it slipping. What was she doing in the middle of this arena? She had to run. Only way to survive.

Then something was shaking her violently-her limbs flared with blue energy and she hurled her attacker away, expecting a mouthful of teeth and scorching spit.

"...Shepard?"

A gun was forced into her hands, arms hauling her to stand. "Shepard, stay with me!"

She latched onto the voice like a drowning person, and the fog slowly cleared. There were no screams here. No horrible stench of death. Just the bellows of the thresher maw, and the wind.

Suddenly, it all came rushing back in a heady wave of clarity. And this time, when the maw erupted from the earth, her hands were steady, her aim true. This time she felt not fear, but cold anger.

"Burn, you son of a bitch," whispered Kaliya Shepard as she pulled the trigger of the Cain. She watched as though in slow motion as the projectile crawled toward the thresher's cavern of teeth, and the world exploded with heat and light.

It wasn't until her ears stopped ringing that she realized her hands were shaking so badly she was rattling the weapon. She stowed the Cain and collapsed against the pillar, watching her fingers tremble like leaves.

A drop of blue blood landed on her open palm. She looked up into the face of Garrus Vakarian. One side of his neck was scraped up, but he looked like he hadn't even noticed. Grunt's broad face appeared over Garrus's shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

"You took down a maw, Shepard!" he said excitedly, banging his fists together. Garrus glared at him, but Grunt paid no attention. "A maw! On foot! I knew you weren't as squishy as you looked."

Shepard closed her eyes briefly and took a few deep breaths, forcing herself to relax. She could feel something akin to shock setting in, and that was the last thing she wanted here on Tuchanka. "Thanks, Grunt," she said quietly.

She felt a gauntleted turian hand touch her neck and flinched. "Easy, Shepard," said Garrus. She could hear the beeping of his visor as it scanned for heart rate and breathing. "Are you all right?"

Eyes still closed, she managed a smile. "I should be asking you that," she said, feeling the sticky turian blood congealing on her fingers. "I threw you, didn't I? I'm so sorry."

Garrus frowned at the forced calm in her voice, watching like a hawk as her heart rate slowly but steadily dropped out of the danger zone. "Don't apologize," he said, his voice ragged. "I knew what I was doing. It was stupid of me, but it worked."

Shepard's bright blue eyes opened. Her pupils were still a little dilated, but she seemed considerably less shocky. She pulled herself to a standing position, refusing Garrus's offered help.

"Come on," she said curtly. "Let's get out of here before they throw more at us." Garrus watched as she walked toward the shuttle, Grunt bounding in her wake. Her gait was steady, but he couldn't help kicking himself for not realizing what was wrong sooner. He tried to catch her gaze, but she assiduously avoided his eyes.

He'd have to corner her on the Normandy later.

* * *

Somewhere amid the slack-jawed admiration of the other krogan and the congratulations from some of the other Normandy crew (Jacob was particularly keen on buying Grunt a round of drinks, even if it was ryncol), Garrus found time to worry about Kaliya Shepard.

She seemed like her usual self, calm and professional, and clearly very proud of Grunt's new status in his clan. Her vitals were normal, but she was still as pale as snow, and her eyes often wandered off to the horizon, in the direction of the arena. Whenever she did this, he could see her fingers inching toward her pistol holster. But she was nothing if not slippery. Every time he tried to talk to her, she'd suddenly be in conversation with Wrex, or Grunt, or some other krogan ambassador.

He couldn't corner her until the sun had started to set, and Wrex insisted they take their celebrations back up to the Normandy. Shepard hopped into the shuttle's pilot seat, and he slid into the co-pilot chair right beside her before she had a chance to react.

"You sure you're ok to fly?" he asked pointedly. She gave him an odd look, then nodded.

"Of course. I'm your designated driver, as it were." She gestured back toward Grunt, who was still enthusiastically reliving the fight in the back seats with Zaeed and Jacob, complete with hand gestures and sound effects.

Garrus decided to throw caution to the winds. "Why don't you let me pilot?" When she didn't move except to start the engine, he continued, "You can't tell me you didn't get a shock today."

She bit her lip, but held back the instinctive retort. Instead, she just gunned the engine and the shuttle lifted off with a little more force than usual. She could feel Garrus's eyes boring into the side of her skull, but she didn't reply.

At least not until they were well clear of the Tuchanka winds and she heard his exasperated sigh during a lull in Grunt's epic retelling. "Don't stonewall me, Shepard," he said with more than an edge in his voice. "You're not the only one who's watched their unit die around them."

Shepard let out her breath in a rush, mentally kicking herself for her insensitivity. She waited until Grunt started up again. "...I'm sorry," she said quietly, her eyes fixed straight ahead. "I didn't think..." She trailed off, hoping Garrus would let her get away with the feeble apology.

He didn't. He never did. "Are you at least going to talk to me?" he asked, and she felt her stomach clench. Something about the way he said it-the frustration, concern-she always had trouble saying no to him.

"Fine," she said shortly. "But not now. Let me take care of some things first...like a shower."

She looked at him for the first time all night and gave him a smile. Garrus didn't smile back-he could tell, after two years, when she was wearing a mask. But he did place his hand on her shoulder, felt her stiffen before very slowly relaxing.

* * *

Shepard took her sweet time in the shower, letting the cool water run down her face and body, eyes closed. She knew Garrus wanted to talk. The trouble was that she didn't know what to say.

She had...won. Not just survived, but won. She'd expected relief, maybe, or closure. Instead, she'd felt dazed since the end of the gauntlet, almost as though she was waking suddenly in another person's life. Everything felt surreal, disconnected. Even the water on her skin and the faint scent of soap in the air didn't seem quite real.

Dragging her feet, she got out of the shower and dressed in a clean set of clothes before glancing at the pile of work behind her console. She wanted to hide behind it, but Garrus deserved better than that. And she'd already made enough of an ass of herself in the shuttle.

When she got down to the forward battery, she went to open the door as usual, then thought better of it and knocked twice. "Garrus?"

The door opened a little too quickly to be nonchalant. Garrus was leaning against the panel, sharp and predatory eyes fixed on her face. "You never knock," he said. He closed the door behind her and crossed his arms. "Shepard, what's going on with you?"

Despite herself, Shepard's mouth quirked in a smile. Garrus was rarely subtle. "Thanks," she said. "For snapping me out of it back there."

"I...didn't really know what to expect," he admitted. "You never had problems with the thresher maws we encountered while looking for Saren."

"We were in the Mako, and Wrex was driving. That thing was like a metal rhino. But this was-" She stopped short again, unsure of what exactly to say. There weren't words to describe the primal, crippling, dominating terror that had gripped her mind and body.

"You feel dazed, don't you? Like you're walking through some kind of fog."

She looked up at him sharply. "How did you know?"

"How do you thinking I felt with you in my crosshairs between me and Sidonis?"

For the second time that day, she felt a pang of guilt. She opened her mouth to apologize, but Garrus cut her off. "Don't," he repeated.

"Somehow I thought killing that damnable beast would just fix everything," she said bitterly. "Probably the same way you thought about shooting Sidonis." She shook her head. "I'm not very good at taking my own advice, it seems."

Her hands were shaking again. Instinctively, Garrus caught them in his, and for the first time, he noticed very faint scar tissue along her palms. They looked old, older than the scars from the Lazarus project. They looked like burn scars.

She noticed his gaze. "Thresher acid eats through human flesh at an alarmingly quick rate," she said, as though reciting from a textbook. "The effects on living tissue vary from person to person, but-"

"Shepard, shut up."

She realized her voice was becoming slightly hysterical and complied. Garrus was still holding her hands in his, absently running his gloved fingers along her palm. She could feel the heat of his skin even through the gloves. His free hand came up to push her chin up so her eyes met his.

"I had nightmares," he said quietly. "Terrible ones. They happened whenever it was too quiet-I guess that's why I'm bunking down here."

"You see their faces."

"Hear their voices." Garrus swallowed hard. "I think I've stopped expecting it to ever really go away. But you'll feel normal enough soon."

"That's good to know," she said. She suddenly realized Garrus's hand was still holding her face and started to back away. He let her go instantly, mindful of his own recommendation to wait on any...intimacy to avoid disrupting the crew.

There was an awkward pause as they looked at each other. Garrus longed to reach out to her, but he knew he had to take this slowly for both their sakes. She was skittish about these things, easily spooked, and she had that wary, almost calculating look in her eyes as she left the main battery.

Once back in the captain's quarters, Kaliya set to her backlogged work with a fury. But in the back of her mind, she could hear Garrus's voice, and the unspoken plea for her to stay.

* * *

She couldn't sleep that night. Unsurprising, given the mental strain of the day, even though her muscles cried out for rest. At least it gave her time to work her way through the backlog of mission reports and intel. Even with Miranda handling most of the red tape, some of it still made its way to her desk. She glanced at the clock: 0143. She could go for a few hours less sleep than that without being too suboptimal tomorrow morning.

A sudden knock on her door made her start. When she opened the door to a sleepy-looking Garrus with two mugs in his hands, she smiled a little.

He handed one of the mugs to her-it smelled like tea. She took a cautious sip and gestured for him to sit on the couch.

"I figured you couldn't sleep either," said Garrus. "EDI confirmed that you'd been up and active for several hours."

"Thoughtful of her," said Kaliya dryly. She took a sip of tea. "Don't worry about me. Tea and work will put me to sleep, eventually."

Garrus stared at her intently for a few seconds, wrestling with his courage. Finally, he said, "Shepard, could I try something?"

She looked up, eyebrow quirked. "Try what?"

"Just sit down and close your eyes," he said, the words spilling in a rush. She gave him a deeply skeptical look, and he was about to take the crazy idea back when she slowly closed her eyes and sat next to him. He placed his hands on her shoulders, feeling her muscles instinctively tense.

Very gently and carefully, he began to knead her shoulders and back. She let out a surprised sound halfway between a gasp and a sigh, and leaned backward.

"Hey, you're good," she said, eyes still closed. His hands were large and strong, almost spanning the width of her shoulders.

"I've heard this is a good way to help humans relax," he said as he worked his way down to her upper back. "It's easier than I thought it'd be."

She chuckled a little. "What, afraid you were going to punch through my skin?"

"Something like that," he admitted. In reality, he was trying to control the urge to explore more of her body with his hands. Even through her clothes, she felt soft and cool to the touch, if somewhat tense. He could smell her faint floral soap, feel her thick black hair tickling his skin. "Hang on a moment."

He stopped massaging her back long enough to strip off his gloves. Slowly, he worked his fingers under the bottom hem of her shirt, heated scales kneading sensitive human skin.

The effect was electric. She gave a gasping shudder and whipped her head around to look at him. But when he started hastily backpedaling, she shook her head. "No," she said, her voice slightly shaky. "It feels...nice. You just startled me is all."

"Startled" was probably a kind way of putting it-Garrus's visor read a sudden jump in her heart rate and breathing, usually the kind of spike that accompanied a firefight. For her part, Kaliya felt almost light-headed. Garrus's touch had suddenly-and rather violently-dispersed the daze she'd been in all day.

He started to massage her lower back, then with greater confidence, work his hands up to her waist. She was sensitive along her spine-he could feel her breath hitch every time he ran his talons along that ridge.

"Garrus," she said in a low, almost matter-of-fact tone, "if you're trying to make me sleepy, I think you're having the opposite effect."

He didn't register what she meant at first. He was so used to hearing that same voice talk to him about sniping positions and hostiles that her actual words passed him by. It wasn't until he looked down and realized he'd half-peeled her shirt off that he stopped cold.

"Garrus," she repeated. "You heard me, right?"

"Crystal clear," he managed to choke out. But something kept him from letting go of her. Right then, he needed to feel her skin against his hands, her lips on his mouth like that first spontaneous kiss. But for the moment, he settled just for continuing to touch her, relishing the feeling of her muscles relaxing under his minstrations.

Shepard closed her eyes, heart thumping. If they were going to be responsible, he really needed to stop, and soon. But she felt like her voice had frozen in her throat when she tried to speak again-all that came out was a startled sigh as Garrus ran all six of his talons lightly down her spine.

"You like that," he murmured, his voice low and rough. Shepard clenched her teeth, fighting for self-control.

"I do," she said once she could get herself to sound passably calm. Garrus leaned forward, his hot breath beating against her neck. His mouth touched her hair in a semblence of a kiss, and shivers ran down her back. Her mind yelled things at her about being responsible, but she suddenly didn't care. The occasional madness that possessed her, the incurable need to have Garrus near flooded her senses.

He didn't say anything when she shot to her feet and started tugging him insistently toward the bed. Her hands were suddenly everywhere, exploring his fringe, his scales, brushing against his scars. They tumbled onto the bed, Garrus's hands still firmly clasped around her waist.

This was...different. Not just lust, but simple contact. Touch. He continued the smooth, rhythmic pressure of his hands up her back, finally cupping her face in both hands as he pressed his scarred cheek against hers.

Their hearts pounded as one when he folded her into his arms, absently running his fingers through her thick hair. He was determined not to let his desire get the best of him. This, just holding her for a few precious moments, this was enough for now.

So he kept quiet and just held her in his arms, the rhythmic heat of his palms moving up and down her back eventually soothing her to sleep. She'd conquered some of her demons today. The least he could give her was a few hours of peaceful oblivion.


	3. Extraction

(Inspired by the Fade dream section of Dragon Age: Origins.)

She should have known better than to trust Legion and Mordin's insane idea. Yes, Legion had experience with sharing thoughts and memories. Yes, Mordin had a point-learning to train their minds in the presence of others' thoughts and dreams would make them far more resistant to any attempts against Reaper indoctrination.

But this was far, far too intrusive for Commander Kaliya Shepard's liking as she wandered through the surreal green tunnels and valleys of their minds, all hooked up to the same VI interface. Briefly, she wondered how Mordin's program chose what to use and what to discard. And whether Mordin had restricted it over ethical concerns.

"God damn it," she hissed as she hit yet another wrong turn. She forced herself to close her eyes and slow her breathing. The disorientation of the mind was another hallmark of indoctrination. She had to try and work beyond whatever maze Mordin's VI generated.

She managed to make herself just sit still and passively resist for what felt like a few minutes before she heard laughter in the distance.

Archangel's base. Not eerily empty and bullet-pocked as she'd seen it, but full of light streaming from the windows. She took one step, then another, and suddenly she found herself at the bridge side entrance.

The laughter was louder than she'd expected. Fascinated, she took a few hesitant steps in. There was no armory on the ground floor, no piles upon piles of med kits and thermal clips. She heard the clink and glug of alcohol being poured before a horribly familiar turian with yellow markings came bounding toward her down the steps.

"Shepard!" said Sidonis, his mandibles spreading in a wide grin. "Hey, Garrus, Shepard's here! I told you she'd be late." Before she could do anything other than gape, he'd grabbed her arm and pulled her up the stairs.

Ten smiling faces looked back at her. Batarian, turian, salarian, human...she could even tell that the volus was pleased to see her from the way he stretched out his little arms in welcome. And a figure in pristine blue armor turned around and strode toward her, his handsome face completely unmarred.

"Shepard!" Garrus pulled a stunned and unresisting Shepard into his arms, his taloned hands tangling in his thick dark hair. "I was just telling everyone about you. All the crazy missions we used to go on, running through hell together." He let her go, beaming.

Not once in the year since she'd rescued him from Omega had Shepard seen Garrus so happy. She closed her eyes, fighting back (real?) tears as she tried to steel herself into breaking his fantasy. But she couldn't do it-not with the sounds of joy and warmth echoing through a place she'd found haunted, dead.

She opened her eyes at length. "Don't you boys have mercs to fight?" she said as she tried for a smile.

Sidonis piped up. "Mercs? Hell, Shepard, where have you been? Garrus broke their hold on Omega ages ago. We're almost out of cleanup tasks by now."

Garrus took her arm and led her over to the window overlooking the bridge entrance. She retraced the same steps she'd taken a year ago, when she'd hardly believed that Garrus Vakarian could stand before her in the flesh.

"Look, Shepard," he said, waving his arm out at the warped green expanse beyond the base's solid walls. "Omega's at peace. I didn't think it was possible, but I really pulled it off this time."

She couldn't look at him. Instead, she just smiled, patted his arm, and whispered, "You're a goddamn hero in my book, Garrus." She quickly excused herself on the pretext of looking for the bathroom, fighting the lump in her throat and the ache in her heart.

She could do this if it was anyone else. Miranda, Tali, Jacob...any of the others. They were her crewmates too, but Garrus-she always ended up breaking the rules for Garrus. Shepard peeked out from behind the wall at the twelve men, brothers, laughing and enjoying their hard-earned peace.

Such a beautiful dream. But only a dream.

Garrus's sniper rifle leaned against the couch beside her. Concussive rounds only. She examined the well-worn, well-loved gun. A thin layer of dust coated its scarred metal.

And suddenly, she knew what she had to do.

This wasn't her Garrus. Her Garrus didn't rest contented on his laurels. He was headstrong and tireless, reckless and bold. She had to shock him back into that, and it wasn't going to be with words.

She double-checked that the rounds were actually concussive. She didn't know what would happen if they died inside the VI's interface, and she didn't want to find out. She lifted the rifle and trained Sidonis within its sights.

As if in slow motion, she saw Garrus following the laser sight back toward her. Saw him spring to his feet and stand between her and the man who'd betrayed him. Heard yelling in the distance.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, and squeezed the trigger.

The force nearly knocked Garrus off his feet as it slammed into him just below the neck. He staggered, and she saw cracks beginning to form inside the walls.

She shot again, this time hitting the side of his face. The building's very foundations began to rumble around them as if caught in an earthquake.

Shepard closed her eyes and curled up against the wall, willing herself to continue breathing. When the shaking finally stopped, it was just her and Garrus in the middle of a vast surreal waste.

His eyes met hers, fuzzy and unfocused. "You shot me," he whispered blankly.

She managed a strangled laugh. "Concussive rounds only," she whispered back. "I needed to get you moving."

He gave a hollow chuckle. She approached him slowly, like a handler with a spooked animal. Very carefully, she slipped her hand into his and squeezed.

Garrus hurled himself at her like a drowning man, arms almost squeezing the air out of her. Shepard winced, gently stroking his fringe with her free hand. "It's ok," she said ineffectually. "Just a dream."

As the daze cleared from his eyes, he looked up at her with a haunted expression she knew would plague her nightmares. If she survived that long. "Tell me, Shepard. Am I ever going to be free of this?"

She hesitated. "I don't know," she murmured back. She could feel her ribs protesting his grip, but instead she just cradled his head against her chest, willing him to feel her breathing and her beating heart. "But I meant what I said. No matter what happened on Omega, you're a hero to me."

She shifted a little in his embrace, and he finally got the message and relaxed, his head still resting against her chest.

"I wish you hadn't seen that," said Garrus bitterly.

He was right-it felt like she'd stolen something from him without giving anything back.

"When Mordin disconnects us, I'll show you my vision."

The words came spilling out of her in a rush to comfort him, but it was too late to take them back.

"You'd do that?" he asked, startled. She was so private, so protective of herself. It was part of why it'd taken so long for either of them to act on their feelings.

Shepard nodded, unwilling to say anything more. She turned and buried her head in Garrus's shoulder, trying not to imagine what he'd think when he saw her vision.

"How much longer in here?" asked Garrus.

"Mordin said three hours total," she replied mechanically. "Maybe we should go find the others."

"I...I don't know if I want to get caught up in their dreams."

He was right again. After seeing the intensity of his, she really didn't know if she could handle another. Instead, she just held him, laying gentle kisses along the top of his fringe. He had never abandoned her when she was frightened or unsure. She couldn't leave him.

They sat on the sluggishly shifting landscape, waiting together for the nightmare to end.

* * *

As soon as a guilty-looking Mordin provided Garrus with the log of her vision, she fled the medical bay up to her quarters.

The last of the engineering reports. EDI's intelligence on the Reapers. And novels worth of information on Cerberus that she'd asked Miranda, EDI, and Liara to compile and analyze. Work was easy-it forced her mind to turn its resources elsewhere.

Hours passed as she buried herself in the reports, and still no word from Garrus. She knew the whole thing had only taken three hours. Her vision had not lasted particularly long.

He didn't turn up for dinner either-a decidedly silent affair as everyone shared the same haunted, preoccupied expressions over Gardner's French onion soup. Even Mordin, who approached her when putting his plate away.

"Apologies, Shepard. Attempted to keep experiment both ethical and realistic in terms of mental stress. Failed."

She shook her head emphatically. "I never thought mimicking the stress of indoctrination would be anything other than painful," she said. "It was...necessary."

Mordin looked slightly more mollified. "Inform me if suffering side effects, Shepard. Still need more data."

"OK," she said vaguely, and headed back up toward her quarters.

She peeked inside; Garrus was sitting on her couch, omnitool in hand and an open bottle of wine sitting on the table in front of him.

She dashed for the elevator. She didn't need to see what he was replaying to know what it was. Her instincts kicked in-run, hide, do anything to keep from confronting that tantalizing illusion again.

The replay ended. Garrus turned around, and his eyes locked on hers just before the metal doors closed. She slammed the button for the crew deck, heart pounding in her throat.

It was quiet inside the AI Core. Nothing but the quiet humming of EDI's hardware. Legion was upstairs in the tech lab, helping Mordin analyze data. She missed Legion's quiet, periodic whirs to break the near-silence. EDI too was surprisingly quiet. Usually she chipped in now or then. If only for something to hear, she activated the sound system connected to her omnitool and put on some music while she worked.

The clock read 0100 hours before she deemed it safe to return to her room. What had she been thinking, giving Garrus that vision? Everything was going fine between them, and she might have wrecked that.

The elevator doors opened. The door to her quarters was locked and closed. Just to be sure, she rapped on the metal. "Garrus?"

EDI's voice came over the speakers. "Gunnery Officer Vakarian has been inside for a total of seven hours. I have no sensors inside the captain's quarters."

Shepard sighed. The time for subtlety was over. She really just needed to talk to him and get this over with, however reluctant she was.

But Garrus beat her to it. The door opened, and she found herself face to face with him. He looked down at her with an unfathomable expression. "Hey," he said, and held out his hand to her.

She decided to take that as a good sign. She took his hand and let him lead her into the room, closing the door behind her.

Garrus pushed a glass of wine into her hands. "Garrus, I don't think alcohol is the best way to-"

She stopped suddenly as he drained his own glass of dextro-friendly wine. Liquid courage. He dropped the glass carelessly to the carpet. then turned to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"I wanted to thank you," he said.

That was the last thing she expected. "Thank me?" she said blankly.

"For getting me out of that...whatever it was," he said, mandibles flaring. "I don't know if...thanks, Shepard."

"You're welcome," she said. He wasn't going to call her out? Just to give herself something to do, she took a sip of her wine.

He hesitated, and she would have given any amount of credits to know what he was thinking. He sat down on the edge of her mattress, looking up at her with those fierce eyes.

"I also wanted to make you a promise," he said, and suddenly he didn't sound hesitant or nervous. He squeezed the hand that he was still holding.

"I promise to make that vision of yours come true."

"No!"

That clearly wasn't the answer he'd been expecting. She pulled away from him, hardly aware of the words coming out of her mouth. "No. Please. Please don't give me false hope."

"Kaliya-"

"Garrus, please," she pleaded. "Drop it."

"No."

She didn't struggle when he took the glass from her unresisting hands and set it down on the table next to him. "You got me out of my nightmare," he said steadily. "Time for me to repay the favor."

"In case you forgot, I broke free of mine on my own," she snapped. She immediately regretted the words, but he didn't seem fazed.

"You broke free because you were so happy within it, and because you've somehow convinced yourself that it's impossible," he said in the same steady voice. "My vision can never come true. Yours can. Let me do it, Shepard. Let me give you some peace."

She stared at him incredulously. "Garrus, we've got Reapers and Cerberus and god knows what else on our backs. You have to know our survival odds go down with each mission."

He smiled then. "I know. That's exactly why I want to give you something to live for. Not just a bunch of duties or responsibilities that compel you to fight."

She couldn't believe her eyes as he slid off the bed and got to his knees in front of her. "When all this is over," he said fiercely, "I'm going to marry you. We're going to kick ass and take names and grow old together, and we're going to die together after long, long lives. I swear it."

The words might have been rehearsed-she was pretty sure he'd been mulling over them all evening-but it didn't make them any less genuine. Unbidden, the vision swam again before her eyes. Just her and Garrus, their wrinkled hands clasped tightly as they laughed, lived, slept, and died together.

It seemed less impossible when he described it. She closed her eyes, trying to beat back the choking feeling in her throat. She felt him take her hands in his as he got to his feet. He pressed his mouth against her forehead and whispered two things-her name, and a simple "Please."

She'd never imagined turians could be so incredibly gentle. He held her at bay when she reached for the clasps on his clothing, guiding her to the bed first. He didn't say anything about her shaking hands or her silence. He let her run her hands along every inch of his body, touching him from head to toe in an effort to convince herself she wasn't still dreaming.

It was nothing like anything she'd ever experienced. Nothing like their first night together or anything afterwards. Garrus took his time. His hands were everywhere, holding her close, running down her spine, touching and exploring every inch of her body.

And all the while, he kept talking. Whispered to her about what they'd do and see with the decades they had together. About taking her to Palaven, visiting Earth, trying out that new technology so he could see what the fuss was over chocolate. He talked as though his words alone could make it come true.

Then he suddenly stopped, propping himself up on his elbows on top of her. "So?" he asked. "What's your answer?"

She couldn't speak. She felt like if she did, she'd destroy the beautiful, shimmering dream he'd so painstakingly brought into the realm of possibility. So instead, she simply nodded and kissed him, pulling him into her.

He moved with her like water. She didn't feel the chafing or the awkward angles-all she could feel was Garrus's warmth and strength. They were both so worked up with emotions and need and longing that it didn't take long before she buried her face in his neck, trying to bite back her gasps. She heard him whisper her name before he shuddered from head to toe in her arms.

She felt him roll onto his side and pull her, unresisting, with him. His eyes were glistening, mirroring hers.

She touched the scarred side of his face, feeling her voice finally beginning to return.

_"We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and all our little life is rounded with a sleep."_


	4. Awaken

"Shepard, this is the craziest idea you've ever had," said Garrus, pacing back and forth in front of the weird stasis pod-like thing. He watched Legion scaling the interior restraints down to Shepard's size, his mandibles twitching with agitation.

"Crazier than running the Mako through a mass relay? Or hitting the Collector base?" She sounded almost amused. "It'll be fine."

He didn't laugh. "The last time this happened to you, that insane VI/human hybrid almost killed you."

"He has a name. It's David Archer," said EDI evenly. She was leaning over Legion's shoulder, watching the geth work with great interest. A normal person might have called it hovering, or even distracting, but Legion didn't seem to mind. "Legion's logic is sound. Shepard will be in no danger inside the geth consensus."

"When was the last time a mission of ours went the way it was supposed to?" said Garrus. "Can't you go in with her, EDI?"

"Negative," said Legion, looking up at Garrus from its preparations of the interfacing pod. "EDI possesses different programming from the geth, but she is still an artificial intelligence. She would be quickly detected and attacked." As though it knew what Garrus was about to suggest next, Legion added, "This unit does not possess enough processing power to bring more than one organic mind into our consensus. We will need to remove all programs from our hardware to assist Shepard-Commander."

Shepard blinked. That wasn't what she'd been expecting. "You mean...you and I will both be unconscious?"

"Negative. This platform will be completely inactive. Your physical body will still perform autonomic functions and react to stimuli like contact or pain." Legion's flashlight eye rested on EDI and Garrus. "We judged physical presence on the server platform necessary in case any geth units attempted physical confrontation."

Garrus shook his head. "So EDI and I are here in case any of these geth come online and start shooting? What if something happens to you in there?" he demanded. "We wake you up?"

"Negative. We will not respond to physical attempts to remove us from the consensus."

"So what the hell do we do if something goes wrong on your end?" Legion merely flicked its headflaps at Garrus before returning to its preparations. "Legion, if you don't have a plan-"

"It does," said Shepard, cutting across Garrus. "EDI, Legion, would you excuse us for a moment?" The geth didn't even look up; EDI nodded and turned her attention back to Legion, occasionally asking the geth questions. Shepard had to smile at the powerful curiosity in the AI's voice even as she grabbed Garrus by the elbow and dragged him out of earshot of their companions.

She cornered him against one of the inert pods, her hands on both of his shoulders. "Do you trust me?"

Garrus blinked at her in surprise. "Shepard, I'm not-"

"I asked you a question," she said, not unkindly. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course," he said without hesitation. She couldn't possibly be angry with him for worrying about her crazy plan, could she?

"And I trust Legion. Have a little faith, Garrus."

"It's not Legion I'm concerned about, it's you. What if there are cyberwarfare suites like EDI's? What if something happens and you can't get out? What if-"

She stopped his ranting with two fingers against his mouth. Slowly, deliberately, she traced the lines of his face paint up to his cheek. Garrus involuntarily shuddered, both fascinated and frustrated at how quickly she could get him to shut up. He took her other hand in his, squeezing as tightly as he dared.

"I haven't left your side since Menae. Please don't go where I can't follow," he whispered, heart pounding.

Her breath caught in her throat. So that was it. It wasn't about her, or Legion, or even the geth. She squeezed back and tried to smile for him.

"I'll be careful," she promised. "Just watch my back out here. Er...pod. Whatever."

Garrus nodded. "Always."

"We are initiating peer network integration. Proceed to docking port."

Shepard gave Garrus a gentle punch on the shoulder before making her back to Legion; it had raised the hatch on one of the weird pods. She gingerly stepped inside. Two sets of strange metal cords snapped around her torso and legs, holding her firmly in place.

"Mapping to consensus. Remain still."

Shepard felt her skin starting to tingle a little. She could see the blue light of Legion's scanning through her closed eyelids. Then there was a sudden rush and shudder, almost like the vertigo from a ship, and she heard Legion's voice all around her.

"Shepard-Commander. We acknowledge your integration into this server. We welcome you to our consensus."

Her restraints sprang loose, the hatch opened...and Shepard could only stare at the beautiful, alien world around her. Order, chaos, unity, collision: it all kept shifting around her in patterns of chrome and silver.

"Legion?"

"Here." A hologram of Legion's physical hardware flickered into view. "We have made ourselves visually distinct for your convenience. We have also installed filters to help you make sense of our consensus."

"Sense" was a generous way of putting it. Legion had at least provided her with her own body, illusions of mass and motion and gravity. A geth energy rifle materialized in her hands.

"Thanks," she said to Legion, holstering the weapon. She suddenly felt better.

"We judged familiarity would be preferable." The hologram hesitated, then took a step toward her. "Status?"

She started to say "I'm fine" but the words died in her throat. She could discern fragments of images, whispers of sound. It wasn't just around her or part of the environment; it was part of her. She was terrified, fascinated, anything but fine.

"Take your time. You communicate in nanoseconds, though you perceive it as analog speech."

It took her a moment to work that one out. "You mean I'm talking through neuron patterns?"

"Yes. It is significantly more efficient. We are in no rush."

Gingerly, she reached out and put a hand on Legion's shoulder. She expected no contact from the hologram, but instead, the geth felt warm. Comforting.

"Thanks, Legion." She clicked the safety off the geth rifle and took a deep breath. "OK. Let's go."

* * *

Of all the people Shepard brought with them to the server, it had to be EDI. Tali would've kept Garrus's mind off things reminiscing about old times. He and James would spend the whole time trying to one-up one another. But all of EDI's attention was focused on the console Legion had been working on.

"Wish you were in there?"

EDI didn't even look at him. "Legion's reasoning for bringing Shepard to the consensus was sound. However, I cannot deny my curiosity about the geth. They are the only synthetic life I have as a point of reference."

"Apart from the Reapers," muttered Garrus under his breath. He resighted the scope for the umpteenth time, pacing back and forth in front of Shepard's pod. Legion's platform slumped against the pod beside her.

EDI tilted her head to one side, a very human gesture. "May I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," he said absently.

"Shepard routinely performs far more dangerous missions. Logically, there is no reason to fear for her safety. Does your emotional attachment to her cause agitation?"

Garrus stopped in his tracks and gaped at her like a slack-mandibled idiot.

"Have I offended?"

"No," he said hastily. "I just, uh..." Spirits, how Shepard talked to robots on a regular basis was completely beyond him.

"Yeah," he said at length. "I'm worried because I care about her."

"But there is a qualitative difference in your relationship with Shepard, even without the factor of sexual activity," said EDI, ignoring Garrus's awkward cough.

He rubbed his temples, wondering how he was going to phrase this. A lot of bad analogies came to mind, each worse than the last. Finally, he said, "I can't lose her, EDI. Not again."

For once, EDI didn't push for more clarification. She lapsed into a thoughtful silence and came to stand beside him, both of them looking up at Shepard.

* * *

Time was measured in nanoseconds, but it was exhausting in a way she hadn't anticipated. Her physical body might be sleeping, but her brain was working in overdrive, even with the filters the geth had installed for her convenience. After busting the first two server nodes free of Reaper code, Shepard sat down on the blinking walkway Legion had created to catch her breath. Figuratively speaking.

She looked down at the infinite expanse of data beneath her feet. "Legion? What would happen if I fell?"

"We would compensate for any deviation," replied the geth, flickering into view beside her. "In organic terms, we would catch you."

"That's good," she said with a grin. "No offense, but I'm not sure I'd want to be stuck here."

Legion's head light seemed to increase in intensity, zeroing in on her eyes. "We are confident that even without guidance, you could navigate our consensus."

"Tali, maybe. Not me."

Legion shook its head, a human expression it had picked up during the last suicide mission. "Navigation of the consensus requires understanding, not technical knowledge. You understand the geth better than any organic...better than our own creators."

There was no mistaking the droop to Legion's headflaps, the tone of its voice. She wasn't really sure what to do. Could she even comfort a geth? She might give a fellow organic a hug, but even their bodies were illusions here.

Shepard could feel the consensus all around her, just outside the confines of the body she inhabited. She reached out to put a hand on Legion's shoulder, but this time, she gave an experimental push beyond her fingertips. We're all one here, she thought. I'm part of it too. I can help.

Nothing could have prepared her for what happened; sparks of light arced down her arm and into Legion. The geth made an unmistakably startled sound, its hologram flickering as the stream of light grew stronger. Shepard yelped and tried to pull away, but Legion suddenly grabbed her hand and held her in place.

When Legion's hologram finally reasserted itself, it looked more solid. Less unreal. And dancing between the pixels of red and green were sparks of golden light. Legion slowly let go of her hand, flashlight eye fixed on her in wonder.

"You gave to our consensus," it murmured, flexing its fingers.

"Are you ok?" she asked frantically. "What do you mean? What the hell did I just do?"

Legion flicked its headflaps at her, clearly wondering how to explain. "We have assimilated the experience you gave us. We are now operating at maximum capacity." It gestured out at the expanse of silver and chrome data. "All geth share. All organics do not. We cannot share your experiences, even within the consensus, unless you give them to us voluntarily."

Shepard was quiet for a long time. Finally, she asked, "What exactly did I give you?"

"Empathy." The geth blinked twice at her. "It is an organic response we acknowledged, but did not understand until now."

"I take it this is a good thing?"

"Yes. Your experience is now our experience." Sparks glimmered along its skin as it spoke, then as Shepard watched in fascination, began to disseminate into the patterns of code surrounding them. It was a subtle, quiet thing, until the expanding shell of sparks reached the next ugly tangle of Reaper code.

The yellow and orange knots _writhed_, constricting themselves around the new data. It let out a low, grating spluttering that almost sounded like pain or rage. But everywhere the sparks touched, the Reaper code weakened...and did not regenerate.

"Did you just-" Shepard began, not even sure of what she was going to say, or what she'd witnessed.

"The experience of empathy appears inimical to the Old Machine infection." For once, Legion seemed just as awed as Shepard did.

"Are you telling me we just weakened the Reapers' hold with feelings?" This was fairy-tale stuff. It wasn't supposed to happen during a war against giant robots trying to kill them all.

Legion placed a hand tentatively on her shoulder, gave it a squeeze. That was all the answer she needed.

* * *

"Holy shit," said Garrus as the console Legion had been working on suddenly lit up like a beacon. He glanced at EDI, who rushed over and immediately began picking through the data. "What the hell's going on in there? I thought the server was supposed to go dark."

If he didn't know better, he'd say EDI sounded confused when she answered. "I am detecting a steady decrease in the amount of geth programs connected to the server, but the amount of processing power used just spiked to 345% of normal operational use."

"What does that mean?"

EDI shook her head. "I cannot interface with the consensus. There is no way to know until Shepard and Legion reawaken."

Garrus growled something impolite under his breath, but was distracted by the comm lighting up on his omnitool. Admiral Raan was hailing them. Instinctively, he tensed as he answered the call.

"Garrus Vakarian here," he said shortly. "What is it, Admiral?"

"The geth fighters are at the liveships, but...something is happening to them. Only a few of them are firing. Some are just drifting. What did you do?"

Garrus glanced over at Shepard and Legion's unconscious forms. The quarians didn't need to know the details. "Shepard's taking care of the geth here."

"Legion led us to the server these geth inhabit," EDI added.

"Please hurry," said Raan. "Our civilian fleet will continue taking casualties until all the fighters stop firing. Raan out."

"You did not inform Admiral Raan about the geth consensus," said EDI once Garrus severed the comm, fixing him with those strange, almost-human eyes of hers.

"Neither did you," he pointed out. He really didn't want to discuss it; if he was honest with himself, he still couldn't see how any of this was going to end well. Then again, a few weeks ago, he'd thought the same thing about the krogan and turians. It just went to show Shepard's absurd diplomatic skills.

He went back to his pacing, now throwing looks at the console from time to time. The power draw had slowly dropped from its ridiculous spike, but it was still a good ways above normal. What could Shepard possibly be doing in there? Unbidden, his mind came up with about a thousand scenarios of what could go wrong and cause such a power surge. He groaned and rubbed his temples with his knuckles. Expecting the worst really didn't help in this situation.

"Is there anything I can do to lessen your distress?" EDI asked. Garrus looked up at her, startled. "Perhaps a lively rendition of turian drinking songs?"

He had to chuckle. While EDI wasn't exactly socially adept, the intent to help was there, and it did make him feel better. He quirked a brow plate at the AI. "How do you know turian drinking songs?"

"Jeff has many extranet bookmarks," said EDI vaguely.

"That was a joke?"

"Yes."

Garrus glanced again at the woman in the interface pod, ran gauntleted hands down the smooth glass of the hatch. A thought popped into his head. "EDI," he asked, "how would you feel if Joker was inside that pod instead of Shepard?"

EDI shook her head. "That scenario is unlikely. Jeff does not have the trust of the geth the way Shepard does."

"Now you're just dodging the question," said Garrus. "Hypothetically. Work with me here."

She looked from Garrus to the pod to Legion's still form. "I..." she started, then trailed off into silence. "I would be concerned for his safety," she said, sounding almost surprised by the answer. "I would want to be there with him."

Garrus gave her a smile. "There. Now you know how I feel."

She looked very puzzled, like she was about to ask more, when a soft but unmistakable hum came from the pods surrounding them. All of the previously inert machinery was powering up, coming online, including Shepard's.

Instantly, Garrus moved between Shepard's pod and the others, drawing his rifle. EDI took his other side, guarding Legion's hardware, both of them suddenly as tense as live wire.

* * *

The server shutdown was slow at first, but soon Shepard began to notice less depth in the consensus, fewer voices and patterns. She knew it was necessary, as did Legion, but it still made her wonder how many more would have to die before the quarians and geth decided enough was enough.

"Legion?"

"Ready."

"If the geth in this server were going to die anyway, why did you disseminate the data I gave you?"

If she didn't know better, she'd swear the geth almost looked guilty. Legion hung its head, flicked its headflaps in agitation before speaking.

"We...liberated several million programs from the Old Machines' shackles. Your data and our perspective has changed their view. They wish to help. They will accompany us into waiting platforms outside the consensus."

Shepard raised her eyebrows. "And I'm guessing you didn't tell me this sooner in case the quarians caught on."

"Correct. We judged you would understand." Legion blinked at her almost apologetically, and she couldn't help but smile.

"It's ok," she said. "I didn't like the idea of killing your people to save the quarians. I wish-"

She cut herself off. Wishing didn't do anyone any good, and now that the server was shutting down, she was just wasting time here dawdling. Still, it did seem a shame to leave the consensus so soon, just as she was getting used to it.

"Don't suppose you can hold onto this interfacing hardware for the future?" she said.

Legion looked from her to the docking port, then back out at the rapidly dimming server. "You wish to return to our consensus? Your statement implies belief that the geth have a future with organics."

"I've always believed that," she said quietly.

This time, she reached out to Legion without hesitation, taking both hands in hers. Instead of sparks, her entire form pulsed with bright white light, enveloping both of them as it turned from intense to blinding. She expected the transfer to be one-way, as it was before, but Legion responded.

Suddenly she found her senses flooded with a nation of voices all speaking to her at once, each different from and yet like the next. Pictures, sounds, smells, sensation-it should have all been a jumble, but the overwhelming intent behind it took her breath away.

_Thank you._

When the light subsided, Shepard found herself blinking furiously. Legion let go of her hands, waiting patiently while she composed herself.

"You gave us an experience for which we have no word," it finally said. "What was it?"

"Hope."

Legion didn't answer. Shepard knew from her conversations with EDI that that piece of data would take a long time to process. She walked through the exit port side-by-side with Legion, each of them lost in their own thoughts as the vertigo took them.

* * *

The hiss of the pod hatch nearly sent Garrus out of his skin. He transferred his rifle to one hand as the hatch opened and Shepard stumbled out, looking a little dazed.

He caught her with his free hand, steadying her. Recognition dawned in her eyes. "Hey, Garrus," she said quietly.

"Are you all right? We just had a power spike like crazy-"

"We can discuss that later," EDI called. "We have company."

As one, the lids of all of the other pods opened, and out stepped at least two dozen hulking geth prime units. Garrus swore and took aim at the nearest one-only to have Shepard stop him.

He watched, astonished, as Shepard approached the prime unit and held out her hand. As Legion had done back on the SR2, the prime mirrored her motion. Garrus could practically hear the grin in Shepard's voice.

"Legion freed a lot of the geth on the server from the Reapers," she called over her shoulder. "These are friendly."

"Friendly," Garrus replied weakly, looking up at the impassive, towering units.

A click and a buzz behind him heralded Legion's return. Garrus turned toward the geth. "I think you've got some explaining to do back on the Normandy," he said, gesturing toward the primes.

"We are attempting to reach consensus," said Legion, sounding almost preoccupied. "Shepard-Commander can answer your queries."

Garrus gave Shepard a long look, and she knew she was in for a long, long conversation when they got back to the ship.

To Garrus's credit, he managed to wait until they had debriefed the quarians before cornering Shepard in her quarters. She knew it was him; he was the only person on the ship who dared barge into her room without knocking.

"So," she said without any preamble, turning away from her console to look at him, "what do you want to know?"

He didn't know why, but the blase way she'd approached joining her consciousness to the bleeding geth consensus bothered him. She could tell-Shepard could always tell. She got to her feet and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, it's ok," she said, looking up into those fierce blue eyes. "Talk to me."

Garrus made an odd huffing sigh, disarmed for the moment. "I remember what happened to you on Atlas Station," he said in a quiet rumble. "The sight of you being puppeted by that thing...it's hard to forget."

Shepard quirked an eyebrow at him. "That wasn't really the geth, and it wasn't David's fault," she said.

"You don't understand," said Garrus, mandibles twitching. "That almost makes it worse. It was an instinctive reaction, a survival reflex. I never thought the geth would hurt you on purpose, but on accident..."

"The geth didn't hurt me," Shepard replied quietly. "They thanked me."

"They what?"

As best as she could, she explained what had happened inside the consensus. The memories Legion showed her, their conversations about the nature of the geth, and the overwhelming gratitude she'd received in exchange for the experiences she gave them. When she was done, Garrus realized his mandibles were hanging slack again and snapped his mouth shut.

He'd been doing a lot of that today. "You did all that in fifteen minutes?"

Shepard blinked, startled. "Wow. Yeah, I guess. I communicated with the consensus as fast as my brain could send impulses. Still not quite light-speed like Legion, but it's a start."

One thing that always amazed Garrus was how calm she was about utterly bizarre things. The Prothean Cipher, coming back from the dead, making friends with AIs after fighting Saren and the geth...she took it all in stride. Then again, she made up for it by physically hurling quarian admirals off her ship when she was ticked off.

Garrus just shook his head at her, reaching out to stroke her hair. "You're a crazy motherfucker," he said with mixed affection and exasperation.

"I have to be," she retorted. Her fingers found the back of his neck. "I'm dating you."

He gave an ungracious snort and pulled her into his arms. She was ok. She really was ok. That was all he needed. For a long moment, they just stood there and held one another.

"You know," said Garrus thoughtfully, "I still wish I could've been there with you."

"Worrywart," she said, poking him in the ribs.

He chose to ignore her. "No, not just that. The experience of unity you had with the geth, of being able to just share thoughts directly. It sounds incredible."

There was almost a wistful tone in his voice. Shepard smiled up at him and stroked the scarred side of his face. "Getting jealous of the geth?" she teased.

"Please. Legion can't do this."

He leaned down and closed his jaws over the nape of her neck, not biting, just holding her still while practiced hands removed her uniform. Shepard squeaked, then shuddered from head to toe, the tension of the day draining from her body with each gentle stroke of his hands. She closed her eyes, allowing him to completely support her weight.

Garrus let go of her neck just long enough to scoop her up into his arms and carry her to the bed. She grinned up at him as he hastily undressed.

He took her slowly, gently, savoring each gasp and every breath. They came quietly, Shepard's body shuddering violently beneath him, Garrus's face pressed to her shoulder to stifle his moans.

"I belong here," she whispered in his ear as he collapsed on top of her. "With you."


End file.
